


No Shades Of Grey

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-02
Updated: 2008-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Gordon/Lily; t-shirt, meatballs, toothbrush, "Give me my damn eraser!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Shades Of Grey

He'd been tracking them for months, the _freaks_. The ones they called the _'special_ children.' He felt like it was his calling to eliminate every last one of them, and Sam Winchester was the worst of them all. The Antichrist. He knew it from the second the demon opened his mouth back in Louisiana; knew it was true.

But Sam was good. And if Sam was good, Dean was better. He'd pegged them for pros the moment he met them; the way they got the drop on him without even trying. So he wasn't really surprised that he hadn't been able to pick up their trail.

But Gordon Walker was a patient man. And there was always something else to hunt. Something else to kill.

Nestled in the hot sand dunes, he watched unnoticed as the two girls on the deserted strip of beach relaxed together, nestled on one large beach towel. The taller one, a blond with a light gold tan, was absently sketching the ocean waves. The smaller brunette was laughing, vying with the scenery for attention.

The scope of the sniper rifle in his hands caressed Lily's curves, looking her up and down. She was smiling, hair waving softly in the breeze, scantily clad body glistening with suntan lotion as she tried to focus on her work. She was the right age; she was born in the right area, too - demonic omens had ripped through the town right around the time of her 6-month birthday.

But she wasn't the only one, and so far there was no evidence of any psychic ability that he could tell. Gordon dropped the scope, rolled and backslid down the dunes. He would do some more digging. He was nothing if not thorough. He had to be sure.

~*~

Lily was a full time art student, and worked part time at a little California tourist shop designing T-shirts for people to airbrush. She was working so hard on her newest sketch - a restaurant design for that new Italian place - that she didn't notice the man walk in until he was standing behind her, watching over her shoulder. 'I like it in black and white.' he said.

She jumped, dropping her eraser on the floor. 'Oh!' She started laughing. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in!” She turned to look at the man. His stance was loose, affable, but there was something _hard_ about him that she couldn't quite place - something in his eyes. Registering his words, she looked back at the charcoal picture slowly emerging from the sketch paper. The logo hovered over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, each noodle slowly taking its own form as she used various objects to bring out the texture; paper towels, a toothbrush, a straight blade.

“It's not really black and white,” she said. “Most of it's just different shades of grey. When you use all the shades it makes a whole picture. Black and white doesn't really get all the information across, you know?” The man seemed to still a little at her words, and suddenly she felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “Um ...” she faltered over the words, trying to sound casual. “Can I help you with something?”

The man leaned over, picking up her eraser and twirling it casually in his hands. His hands were rough, like he'd seen manual labor. His relaxed manor didn't quite cover his 'at attention' stance, and his smile took on a chilling quality when Lily realized that it didn't reach all the way to his eyes. “Sure,” he said, the words sliding easily off his tongue. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

Lily blinked. “What?”

“Is art the only thing you can do?” His black eyes probed her, pinning her in her seat. She felt uneasy tendrils of fear begin to work their way through her body, freezing her in place.

“I don't know what you mean,” she whispered. There was no one else in the shop. The alarm was behind the counter. She had nowhere to go. She got the feeling that this man would kill her as soon as look at her ... if she gave him a reason to.

He frowned, but it wasn't displeasure at her answer, it was more of a disappointment. “You don't.” He said, and it sounded like he was talking almost to himself. He held her gaze, measuring her. Anger flared suddenly inside of her, frustration breaking through to the surface.

“Look man, I don't know what you mean. I think you should leave.” She spat.

The man blinked, a slow grin sliding across his face. It gave Lily the absolute creeps.

“Give me my damn eraser, and just _go_.” She said. He seemed to respect her anger.

He tossed the eraser to her, and she caught it in midair. He backed to the door, pushed it open, and turned to leave. Before he left, however, he paused. The look he gave her sent chills down her spine. His voice was tinged with a weird sort of conviction. “Everything is black and white. _Everything_.”

And then he was gone.

~*~

Gordon climbed into the car and pulled out of the small parking lot. He hadn't sensed anything in the girl, not enough to know for sure. It was possible that he was just too early, of course. But he had to know for sure.

Whatever he was, he was no killer.

Gordon Walker was a hunter.

And there was one, one of the kids that he did know about for sure. And the next time he met Sam Winchester, Gordon swore to himself that it would be the last time.


End file.
